Tread Heads
by shoootme
Summary: A series of shorts from the men and women in an Alliance armoured unit as the Bloody Valentines war rages over Africa.


Tread heads- a series of shorts from the men and women in an Alliance armoured unit as the Bloody Valentines war rages over Africa.

Chapter One- Contact

"Where the fuck did you learn to drive" was Dave's yell of anger as the tank was almost rammed by a linear artillery repositioning after its part in the barrage earlier. Somehow in the chaos of battle Dave had managed to louse 3-1 the formations lead tank.

"Take the next right, north to junction 35," said Sergeant Isak in a cam voice that was suppose to project reassurance but Wil knew it pissed Dave off, not a good idea when there driver was scared out of his wits.

"Like everyone else is trying to do, fuck this!" said Dave as he ignored the turning nearly crushing an armoured car.

"Dave, don't," was Isak command before Dave drove straight over the reinforced barrier and into the drainage ditch alongside the highway and up the other side, all whilst managing not to throw either track.

"You're on report when we get back Mr. Alan" said Isak sounding amused.

"Fuck you, and the horse you road in on" shot back Dave in the manner that had got him demoted from corporal, twice.

"Kilo 3-2 copy we are heading west over broken ground, ETA 10 minutes," said Isak over her command circuit, she must have switched over before Dave had spoken, saving Dave from further punishment.

Blessing whatever god that thought Dave was worth protecting Wil looked through his gunners sights rotating it 180 degrees to see what was happening on the highway behind them, only to find his view blocked by another linear tank, hull number Alpha 1-1, HQ's lead tank and commander of 2nd armour Battalion, the Slammers, Colonel Hammer's personal 'war wagon'.

"Eyes front Mr Frank," said Isak.

Wil looked up from his sight and over the gun breach at Isak who gave him a wink before going back to her own display.

"Kilo 3-4 do you need assistance?" asked Isak then a moment later, "Rodger Kilo 3-4 will see you at the RV when you fix the track, out."

Bad news, 3-4, or Death Dealer to her crew must have thrown a track, there driver Sara was a new girl to the platoon and very inexperienced, that left 3rd platoon of 3rd company with 3 tanks out of its normal 4.

"Driver in 200 meters take next right, then straight on for 2 kilcks," said Isak

"Yes tom," said Dave sarcastically referring to his car satnav.

"How about I come down there and take over for you?" asked Wil, Dave's attitude was starting to get to him.

"Hell no, last time I let you drive My Baby, you managed to throw both tracks, you know how hard it is to even throw one track on a type 61?" asked Dave, giving the vehicles lesser used title.

"Seconded, we already lost 3-4 to them throwing a track." said Isak.

"Fucking learner," snarled Dave killing all conversation until they reached the rendezvous point.

"Kilo 3-2 to Kilo 3-1 sorry to keep you waiting, any word on Kilo 3-4? Over." asked Isak as they rolled up next to 3-1 the turret number accompanied with a pixy wearing very little.

"Good to hear, ok I will be over, out." said Isak as several trucks pulled up and started to disgorge the company supporting infantry.

"Dave, Wil I got a meet with the boss, Wil you're in charge until I get back,"

"Ok I am in command," repeated Wil in the time honoured military game of Chinese whispers.

Isak nodded and popped the hatch letting in the crump of distant explosions.

"You're such a kiss ass," said Dave after Isak had slid down the side of the hull.

"Up yours," shot back Wil as he looked through his scope, he knew they were somewhere west of the base and lake Victoria in what was once Kenya, according to the local girls at the bars, or was that the east side, didn't really matter, all that mattered was the dense jungle, the grass lands, valley that lead east-west, the company or so infantry digging fox holes and the other tanks from there tank platoon from the rest of 3rd being dug into hull down positions by engineering vehicles to there north. To the south there was another armoured unit but he didn't know from what outfit.

"Hay Wil," said Dave hesitantly.

"Yeah?" replied Wil watching as the trucks that brought up there infantry turned around.

"Have you ever seen a Coordonator before?" asked Dave sounding nervous.

Wil frond, this was different from Dave's normal demeanour "no, you?"

"No, I wonder what they look like?" said Dave sounding far off

"Don't know," replied Wil, he had never thought about it, the TV and the politicians called them monsters and after the N-jammer attack that sent the world into an energy crisis killing millions in the harshest winter seen in generations Wil tended to agree. But just because they were monsters didn't mean they looked like them did it? Hitler, Stalin and plenty of others had looked human but had a heart of pure darkness.

"steve from 2nd said he met one with three arms," said Dave.

"And you believed him," said Wil sarcastically, Steve knew how to spin a good story, none were true.

"No, but you got to wonder where will they stop with their genetic modifications, sure right now its designer babies that are smarter than the us lot but what if they decided to make green hair or something?" asked Dave.

"Green hair?" asked Wil wondering where that came from.

"Yeah, I read a book one time, in it they grew genetic modified bodies for some old farts so they could fight there wars. Anyway there skin was green like plants to photosynthesise so they didn't need to eat as much." said Dave.

"I don't know man that's a bit far," said Wil sceptically, "even if they could, Intel would have told us."

"They never tell us anything, only way we know the fleet got it was because they started popping nukes to defend themselves," said Dave. Wil had to give him that, they had all been outside to watch as nuclear fire lit the night's sky.

"Point," said Isak as she slid back into the tank.

"What's the score Sarge," asked Dave.

ZAFT landed suits and troops about 45 kilcks west of us, someone was waiting but I don't know who just they got hit hard and are pulling back through our lines. I don't have number of enemies; just this valley in front of us is the route part of their force is taking. We will power down and lie in wait for them, we will fire either if we are spotted or command gives the word over landlines the engineers are setting up, any questions?

"Will we be choosing targets or will command be micro managing us?" asked Wil

"For our Alpha strike command will give us targets, after that just shoot what I tell you," said Isak

"Ok," said Wil, setting up his gun sighted to take remote inputs.

"Do we have secondary hull downs marked out or are we supposed to sit here like puddings?" asked Dave.

"Good point, get out the tank and go find us some fall back positions to go hull down in, I want to shoot and scoot," said Isak.

"Shit," said Dave as he popped the drivers hatch.

"Anything else?" asked Isak.

"What do they look like?" asked Wil.

"You have seen the briefing on mobile suits and enemy armour," said Isak.

"No I meant coordinators, what do they look like?" asked Wil.

"Like us I guess, don't know don't care, we got a job to do," said Isak.

"Yes sergeant," said Wil, not satisfied with the answer but knowing he would not get a better one.

The clang of the drivers hatch announced Dave's return to the tank. "Ok got 2 fallback positions, first ones soft cover, a fallen tree to our right about 50 meters got obscuring terrain all the way there, the seconds hard cover but it's got a crap firing ark, it's a cluster of rocks about 170 further on from the first with plenty of cover we can use. "

"Got the first on visual, can't see the second," said Isak.

"Give me control its hard to see from here," said Dave.

"You have control," said ISAK giving Dave control of her periscope normally used to help the driver reverse over difficult terrain. Dave rotated the view around and stopped on some trees that looked identical to the ones either side, "behind that there are several large boulders"

"Ok got it, anyone else grabbing spots?" asked Isak.

"Yeah Carrel and Jo know those are our spots so we don't have to worry about them stealing them,"

"Good, the sappers are done with our tank scrape, Dave take us in," said Isak.

Dave eased the tank into the scrape and powered down the main drive engine to decrease the tanks electromagnetic signature and to reduce its thermo profile. They could reduce the EM and thermo further but they needed to keep the capacitors charged for the gun.

The main gun of a linear tank, a 100mm linear accelerator, is capable of sending the ceramic dart it used as a projectile at high-hypersonic velocity, and would be moving so fast when it reached its target it created a vacuum that could tear flesh from bone negating the need for an explosive payload. "Velocitas Eradico!" speed kills! However to reach such muzzle velocities the gun needed a huge amount of power which gave out heat and EM radiation, in Wil opinion the shear lethality on the gun made it more than worth it.

"So now we wait?" asked Dave.

"Now we wait, Wil your turn for listening material." Said Isak.

Wil pulled out his music player and plugged it into his station.

"I got, T. -"

"NO!" was the universal decision.

"Two mix?" asked Wil.

"Old school, got anything newer?" asked dave.

"Someone called Rie Tanaka, found it on pirate bay, lots of hits," said Wil.

"Never hared of her before, stick it on," said Isak.

 _shizukana kono yoru ni anata wo matteru no_

"Catchy," said Dave.

"Surprised she's not all over the radio- CONTACT, WAIT!" Barked Isak.

Everyone snapped back to their stations, the music cutting out with a slap of Wil's panel.

"Hold fire, friendly," said Isak as a truck careened towards the alliance line, the forest behind blazed with the tell tale flashes of linear cannons erupting telling Wil that this was not a full blown retreat but an organised withdrawal under fire.

"I count seven tanks firing," said Wil.

"Two ours," said Isak.

"How can you tell?" asked Wil.

"The boss has them on coms, had, they just went dark. Last reports was of five enemy tanks and one mobile suit, no infantry," said Isak.

That was something, Wil knew that mobile suits where 20 meter tall bipedal robots that were primarily space combat vehicles. They could scrap a Moebius with ease using their 70mm chemically propelled rounds, but dirt side where just big targets.

ZAFT 'tanks', Wil had to resist a chuckle at that description, were the Connected Armoured Vehicle, or CAV, where more like wheeled IFVs, they mounted either the 200mm linear cannon that could act as direct fire or indirect artillery when dismounted from the vehicle or the 40mm cannon and a pair of missile launchers. Intel had said neither variant was as good as a linear tank, sighting poor mobility over broken ground and weak armour. However ZAFT had taken out two linear tanks and smashed there unit with something Intel had dismissed, all whilst having no infantry support, and with that 200mm linear cannon being twice that of 'My Baby's' gun, he was willing to treat it with respect.

"We got artillery on call, the FST wants us to hold fire till the bombardment hits then plaster them," said Isak.

"Ok," said Wil as the first CAV rolled out into view. He tracked it judging the range by is optical sights rather than lasering the target as that would alert the CAV to danger. A red triangle appeared on his sight so Wil slued the gun on to the target the boss had given his tank, it was the mobile suit, a big fat juicy target that was no match for his gun.

"Standby, arty just got a new target, looks like we get all the glory, alpha strike in 3,2,1 fire!" said Isak.

Wil loosed a round off at the sitting duck aiming for what looked like the cot pit hatch. In his scope he saw the round strike true and bounce off, shooting off into the sky still travailing at hyper sonic velocities. The suit staggered under the hammer blow some, but was otherwise undamaged.

"Dave, move move move! 3-2 to 3-1, target still up, no damage," said Isak as Dave backed them up, Wil taking another shot this time at the suits knee going for a mobility kill but his shot was just as ineffective as the first.

"Fogs rolling in!" warned Isak as she triggered the smoke launchers that visually and thermally masked their tank from enemy sensors. As they pulled back Wil saw a tank to their south erupt in a fire ball, the turret on a ballistic path that could only be from the battery cooking off.

Dave raced the tank to the first position he had scouted and was just turning when a monster loomed over the tank.

"Don't stop, go! Get under him!" ordered Isak.

Dave didn't hesitate gunning the throttle and braking through the position. Wil felt several something hit the tanks rear causing his screen to go black and doing something to the engine to make it sound like a street racers car rather than a main battle tank. The tanks computer automatically switched his view to the guns auxiliary site, a simple laser range finder with an optical scope with a max zoom level of about only 30X rather than his 300X magnification lidar/radar all weather sensor array that could let him hit airborne targets if they came within range.

As they passed the suit Wil put a round into the targets ankle, the highs point he could bring his gun to bare on. This did have an effect, taking the monsters foot off causing it to topple over.

"Next target CAV linear cannon, 350 degrees, elevation 2, range, 100," said Isak, giving him targeting data for the next enemy; the suit was someone else's problem.

Wil brought the gun to bear on the enemy, it was 150 meters away, not 100 but with the main sensor array scrap, Isak would have had to eyeballed the target and she had been a driver before she got command of 'My Baby'. He pushed the pedal to fire and was rewarded with a solid hit that penetrated the vehicles nose.

"Target alpha 3 stopped," reported Isak over the command channel, if there was one left.

The turret rung from auto cannon fire as one of the CAV targeted them. Warnings flashed up on Wil screens as some of the hull mounted equipment shattered.

"Next target, CAV 30 degrees, elevation 0, range 200, Dave get us into cover," ordered Isak

Wil traversed the turret he heard the warning no tanker wanted to hear.

"Missile locked on, 30 degrees. Chaff exhausted, flares exhausted, smoke exhausted," said the tanks computer commonly referred to as Bitching Betty.

Wil switched to his cox machine gun and pored fire from the last defensive option they had at the target. If his sensor array was still up the computer could swat the missile out of the sky on its own, but the computer was almost blind.

Something soared upwards far to close on a pillar of fire, the missile was now on its terminal attack phase and it was too late to do anything about it. Wil let out a wordless cry as the missile dove on the weaker top armour of the tank.

Wil blinked his head hurt, there was something hot on his face, and Dave had over done the bacon again. Why did he always cremate perfectly good bacon? The smell was getting really bad, he needed to get out of hear the smoke was getting really thick. Popping the hatch Wil tried to clamber out but his hand brushed agent something sharp that should not have been in his work space. Looking down he saw there was a credit card stuck in his console's display, huh that was strange, they went in cash machines, not gunners sites, slowly Wil came back to reality and realise the credit card was a metal shard that must have missed decapitating him by millimeters, and the bacon smell was not a pig. Sergeant Annalies van 't Isak had most of her head missing and the rest was being consumed by a fire.

Wil scrambled out of the doomed tank and slid down the side landing badly. He tried to get up but was forced down by something heavy and smelling of burning electronics.

"Stay down" yelled Dave over the sound of an auto canon as the CAV blazed away at their doomed tank, in an attempt to get the crew. After a few seconds the auto cannon stopped firing at them and moved onto another target.

"Where is Isak?" asked

"Dead," replied Wil.

"I asked where not her condition," shot back Dave as flames shot out of the tanks hatch.

"She's in the tank," said Wil.

"Why didn't you get her out," snarled Dave

"Because she's fucking dead!" shouted Wil.

The two glowered at one another for a moment before a 200mm linear round was sent hurtling into the allied lines from close range. Both Dave and Wil looked over to where the shot had came from, it was the CAV that they had knocked out before the tank was hit, or thought they had knocked out. The front section was definitely penetrated but the vehicle was far from knocked out, in fact the only damage Wil could see other than the hole in the front was a damaged wheel that a crewman was working on.

Wil saw a missile salvo, which came from an armoured car, aimed at the CAV only for them to be intercepted by some sort of explosive that shot out from the CAV's hull, shredding or deflecting the incoming. It saved the CAV but not the crewman who had been fixing it, he despaired in a cloud of dust that was tinted red.

"We got to get out of here," said Wil, as the CAV made another hole in the infantry element.

Dave didn't argue crab walking along the ground towards the alliance lines, this turned into a panicked run at the hypersonic boom and impact of artillery rounds, ending in a mad dive into a hole.

"Go find your own hole," said a South African voice. There was a second soldier muttering in Dutch, it sounded like he was praying.

Wil nor Dave responded as everyone tried to get to the bottom of the foxhole. It would not do any good Wil knew, a linear artillery round would hit its target at 3 times the speed of a linear tank shell, shredding anyone not in cover and destroying any subsurface targets with ground tremors. Wil didn't know of a safe place from a linear artillery round, maybe the other soldier had it right and it was time to let the guy upstairs know you were coming.

Something landed near to the foxhole with a dragging noise that grinded on Wil teeth, causing everyone in the trench to further frenzy. Wil knew that if a round had landed in the same ZIP code as them they would be dead. He looked up, and up and up, until the gleaming mono-eye. There was one safe place from the artillery, and it loomed over them, the mobile suit.

"Out of the trench," yelled Wil, putting words to action as he tried to untangle himself from the mound of bodies that now realised there peril.

The 'find your own hole' soldier forced his way out, Dave got out next followed by Wil now there was one less body blocking there escape, the Dutch soldier didn't get out of the trench.

As Wil ran he heard a wordless scream cut off by a whoosh and a bang that had to be a buzz bomb, a terror to any tank drivers.

The ground shook again, but it was not that of a hyper sonic round hitting, again to close to be survivable and it felt heavier. Wil looked back and saw one of the mobile suits leg's on the ground as the rest of the mobile suit went the other way, arms comically flailing about to try and keep the crippled death machine upright.

As the suit fell it was struck multiple times by linear rounds and missiles as the Battalion made sure it stayed down this time, the concussion bowled Wil and the others over.

Wil groggily got back to his feet and looked around; all down the line was the wrecks of tanks and medics dealing with the wounded. ZAFT had paid a price as well, in 4 platoons area of responsibility they had killed 3 CAVs and one suit. At the other end of the line were the remains of two more mobile suits and a CAV. The remains of the ZAFT attack were pulling back.

"Did we win?" asked Wil quietly.

"I… I think we did." said Dave hesitantly as a column of tanks, IFVs and armoured cars baring the markings of 9th Battalion pass through the remains of there lines. The battle was not over, but the Slammers part in it was.

A/N

I always wanted to write a story in Gundam Seed that focused on the grunts like 8th MS Team, no super prototypes, no aces, just grunts. This is something I feel that there was far too little of in Seed's spin offs. No prices for guessing what series heavily influenced this story, expect to see more of Hammer's Slammers get put through the meat grinder and spat out, when I get time.


End file.
